The Wedding that Changed Everything Page 2

  ‘He is a very busy man,’ I say, which is clear, as he never has time for his daughter. Alice flashes me a pleading look, silently begging me to leave it. Alice is a strong and feisty woman, but she wilts whenever she’s in Francelia’s presence.

  ‘He is indeed.’ The corners of Francelia’s mouth pull upwards, hinting at a smile. ‘Now, are we going to stand out here all evening?’

  ‘No. Of course not.’ Alice finally releases my arm and follows Francelia back into the living room. She glances over her shoulder, eyes wide and pleading. It’s been a very trying evening and I want nothing more than to drag myself up the stairs and crawl into bed, but I can’t do that to Alice. Taking a fortifying breath, I step into the living room and prepare for battle.

  Chapter Two

  The next half an hour with Francelia is as arduous as the date I’ve just endured (my date did not take well to being dumped mid-chew and made a bit of a scene), but I’ve been nothing but polite as I settle myself down with a cup of tea, biting my tongue as Francelia throws out jibe after jibe about Alice, the house and even Carrot, our gorgeous little ginger cat.

  ‘Seriously, girls, you should open a window.’ Francelia gurns as Carrot pads past her again. I like to think he does this on purpose to push the evil one’s buttons. ‘You can always tell immediately which houses have cats living in them. It’s the smell.’

  ‘The house doesn’t smell,’ Alice says, but she gives the air a quick sniff anyway.

  ‘Believe me, it does. What is it those adverts say?’ Francelia lifts her cup of tea to her lips (it’s part of the super-expensive china set Alice bought for use whenever her stepmother descended). ‘Ah, yes. You’ve gone nose blind. Just because you can’t smell it, doesn’t mean the rest of us are as fortunate.’ She jabs a foot at Carrot as he winds his way past again and I would quite like to send any hint of politeness on a one-way trip out of the window and smack her in the gob. Luckily, Carrot skitters out of the way and Alice places a calming hand on my thigh to anchor me in place.

  ‘Maybe I should put Carrot out in the garden for now.’ Alice hops up off the sofa and scoops the little kitty up into her arms. ‘Emily, why don’t you pop the kettle on again?’

  Because it would be an invitation for the witch to stay longer?

  ‘Sure.’ I follow Alice into the kitchen, filling the kettle while she opens the door for Carrot and encourages him into the garden. The poor bugger doesn’t want to go outside, but he’s in danger of sporting the pointy toe of a Kurt Geiger court shoe up his arse if he remains indoors.

  ‘That woman.’ Alice leans against the closed back door and growls. ‘Why did my father have to marry such a cow?’

  ‘You could just tell her to bog off. Or you could let me do it.’ I like this idea. I’d enjoy it.

  ‘No.’ Alice gives a sad shake of her head. ‘My father would never forgive me. He’d never speak to me again.’

  He doesn’t anyway, I want to point out, but I know this will only hurt my friend, and her family do enough of that themselves without me wading in to throw a few verbal punches her way. The only decent member of the Monroe family – aside from Alice, obviously – is Carolyn, but she’s just as cowed as her sister when it comes to Francelia.

  ‘She’ll leave soon,’ I say in my best soothing voice. ‘The gates of hell will close behind her and we can get on with our smelly little lives.’

  There’s a flicker of a smile on Alice’s face before she frowns. ‘We haven’t gone nose blind, have we? What if she’s right and the house does smell?’

  ‘The day Francelia is right about anything is the day the Devil pops his ice skates on for a twirl around his frosty kingdom.’ I pull Alice into a hug, trying to squeeze away the damage Francelia has done – and not just this evening. ‘The woman is a muppet, and we don’t listen to muppets, do we?’

  ‘Not even Miss Piggy?’

  ‘Okay, we can listen to Miss Piggy. That girl is sassy and confident and she doesn’t take any crap. She’s a role model. Francelia Monroe is not.’

  ‘I quite like Kermit too. And Gonzo.’

  ‘Animal was always my favourite.’

  Alice and I grin at each other. Francelia can spew her poison but we refuse to be infected. At least from the safety of the kitchen. I kiss Alice’s forehead and release her from the hug.

  ‘You got this. Don’t let her win.’

  Alice shakes her head and throws her shoulders back. ‘Never.’

  ‘Good girl. Now, am I allowed to spit in her tea?’

  Alice practically rugby-tackles me as I head for the kettle and pulls me out of the way. ‘Absolutely not. We won’t stoop to her evil ways.’

  We make the (spit-free) tea and take the tray through to the living room, where Francelia is studying our bookcase, running her nasty, ruby-red talons along the spines of my historical romance novels.

  ‘You honestly read this trash? I thought you were an actual historian. Doesn’t it rot your brain?’

  ‘It hasn’t so far,’ I say, my voice cheery. I will not let her win. I will not let her rile me.

  ‘I suppose we all have our guilty pleasures.’ Francelia wipes her hands down the thighs of her navy trousers as she sits, as though she’s rubbing away something unsavoury after touching my books. ‘Some of us read silly little novels and some of us covet expensive, irreplaceable jewellery…’ She shoots a glance at Alice, but her stepdaughter is rearranging the scatter cushions on the sofa and doesn’t notice.

  ‘I don’t feel guilty about my book choices in the slightest.’ I set the tea tray down on the coffee table and refill Francelia’s cup. She arches an eyebrow. She thinks I should feel guilty. I think she should take a long run off a short pier.

  ‘So. Francelia.’ Alice is starting to get hot and flustered, so I retreat to the sofa and vow to keep it zipped. ‘How was your trip to Aruba?’

  ‘Ghastly.’ I think Francelia’s lip is curling, but it’s hard to tell with all the fillers. She doesn’t offer up any more information.

  ‘Good to be back home then?’ I can see beads of sweat starting to form on Alice’s forehead. I hate the way this woman’s mere presence turns my friend to mush.

  ‘I wouldn’t exactly say that.’ Francelia places her teacup down and clasps her hands on her lap. ‘Anyway, the reason I popped over this evening…’

  Yes! This is what Alice and I have been waiting for. She’ll tell us why she’s here, we’ll deal with whatever it is and then she can clamber back onto her broomstick and fly back to Harrogate.

  But Francelia doesn’t get the chance to divulge her reason for descending (uninvited and without warning) as there is the unmistakable – and panic-inducing – sound of key meeting lock from the front door. I turn to Alice and our eyes meet, wide, startled, conveying what our mouths are desperate to say.

  Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

  We’re up off the sofa and barrelling into the hallway in a split second, Alice reaching the front door milliseconds before me. Kevin takes an alarmed step back when he opens the door to see us standing there, panting like rabid dogs.

  ‘Go!’ Alice hisses, eyes darting backwards to make sure Francelia hasn’t followed.

  Kevin laughs, but he’s frowning. ‘What?’

  ‘Didn’t you get my message?’

  ‘What message?’ Kevin, painfully slowly, takes his mobile out of his pocket, holding it out to show a blank screen. ‘I turned it off during the performance. I must have forgotten to switch it back on.’

  ‘Francelia’s here.’ Alice’s eyes dart back towards the living room before she addresses her boyfriend again. ‘You have to go.’

  Kevin sighs, long and heavy, but he knows the deal.

  ‘Fine. Text me when she’s…’

  ‘Hello? Who’s this?’ A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of Francelia’s voice. She looms behind us, no doubt fighting against the Botox in an attempt to arch a practised brow at poor Kevin.

  ‘This is Kevin,’ Alice squeaks. ‘Emily’s broth
er.’

  I look at Alice, then Kevin (who is in the process of folding his arms in an ‘oh, really?’ way), then back at Alice.

  ‘Emily’s brother has a key to your house?’ Francelia doesn’t miss a bleeding trick.

  ‘For emergencies,’ Alice says.

  ‘And what’s the emergency right now?’

  Alice’s mouth opens. She shuts it again. She’s got nothing.

  ‘He’s also staying with us for a few days.’ I shouldn’t encourage Alice’s cover-up of her relationship, but I can’t stand to see her flounder. ‘On the sofa.’ I roll my eyes at Kevin. ‘What are you standing out there for, bruv? Get inside, you big dope.’

  If Alice notices the majorly pissed-off look on her boyfriend’s face as he steps over the threshold, she doesn’t show it. She leads us all into the living room, where the three of us sit on the sofa – Alice on the left, Kevin on the right and me in the middle.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,’ Francelia says as she arranges herself in the armchair. She flashes Alice a reproachful look.

  ‘It’s Kevin. Kevin Jackson.’ He holds out his hand, but Francelia doesn’t acknowledge it, never mind shake it.

  ‘You have a different surname to your sister?’

  ‘Different dads,’ I say as Kevin settles back down into the sofa.

  ‘Hmm, it figures,’ the witch mutters before turning her attention back to Kevin. ‘So, Kevin Jackson. Why are you – a grown man – sleeping on your sister’s sofa? Don’t you have a home of your own? Don’t you work?’

  ‘I’m a music teacher,’ Kevin says and Francelia nods.

  ‘At the local school like Emily? That explains it then. No wonder you’re “sofa surfing”, as they say.’

  ‘I’m not sofa surfing. I have a place of my own.’

  ‘Oh?’ There goes the eyebrow again. ‘Then why aren’t you sleeping there instead of on this sofa?’ She points at the sofa we’re all sitting on, in case he needs clarification.

  ‘His flat’s being fumigated,’ Alice says. ‘For rats.’

  Francelia recoils. I quite enjoy seeing her so uncomfortable, but Kevin is taking less pleasure from the experience.

  ‘How unfortunate.’ Francelia rubs at her calf with the pointy toe of the shoe that had designs on Carrot earlier. Her eyes roam the carpet for rodents, as though Kevin has turned into the Pied bleeding Piper and brought his little infestation pals along with him. ‘Anyway, the reason I popped over…’ She peers into her handbag, as though expecting to find a furry critter nestled there, before reaching gingerly inside. ‘Emily, this is for you.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘For me?’

  I observe the proffered envelope with suspicion. What is this? Surely no good can come of accepting anything from this woman? I do not trust Francelia Monroe. Not one little bit.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask, but my question is swallowed by the gasp beside me, followed shortly by a squeal and handclapping.

  ‘Is it…? It is, isn’t it?’ Alice has stopped clapping and is now bouncing up and down on the sofa. Francelia gives a curt nod before thrusting the envelope at me again.

  ‘Go on,’ Alice says, grasping me – quite tightly, again – by the arm. ‘Open it.’

  ‘What is it?’ I’m not taking it, not until I know what it is.

  ‘Open it and see!’ Alice’s face is so alive, so joyful, that I know it can’t be anything bad, but I’m still hesitant.

  ‘Are you going to take this, or have I wasted an entire evening?’ Francelia lifts her wrist and gives a tut when she sees the time on her elegant watch.

  I take the envelope. Alice’s grip tightens, and she emits another little squeal. The envelope is thick, made of ivory paper, and embossed with a pattern of interlocking hearts. On the front, in swirly gold writing, is my name.

  Miss Emily Atkinson.

  My address is there too, but there isn’t a stamp.

  ‘We didn’t have time to post it, what with it being a last-minute request.’ Francelia shoots a pointed look in Alice’s direction. Her grasp on my arm goes limp. ‘You’ll have to RSVP in person to me.’

  RSVP? This isn’t…?

  I pull the invitation out of the envelope. The card is the same ivory, embossed with the same pattern of interlocking hearts. The pattern has been picked out with glittery silver leaf on one half of the card, with a wide, dove-grey ribbon seamlessly covering the cutoff point. A pale-blue gem surrounded by clusters of diamantes sits in the middle of the ribbon, cinching it in to create a bow effect. I open the card carefully, already knowing what it will say inside as I read Alice’s invitation months ago.

  Carolyn Allegra Monroe

  and

  Piers Michael Reeves

  request the pleasure of your company in a week-long celebration of their marriage, commencing Monday the twenty-third of July.

  Durban Castle

  Clearwell Road

  Little Heaton

  Cheshire

  ‘What is this?’ Obviously, I know what it is, but I don’t understand why Francelia has schlepped all the way over from Harrogate to give this to me. I don’t really know Carolyn and I’ve never even met her fiancé. I know nothing about the dude, other than the fact he’s stinking rich and Francelia thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread (which probably has nothing to do with his bulging wallet. Nothing. At. All).

  ‘I asked Carolyn if you could come to the wedding with me,’ Alice says. ‘You’re my plus-one!’

  ‘You did what?’ Both Kevin and I ask the question, and Alice is torn about who she should answer first. Or how she’s going to answer Kevin in front of Francelia without giving the game away.

  ‘Emily’s my best friend.’ Alice shoots a pointed look at her stepmother as she speaks to Kevin. ‘And I didn’t want to go on my own.’

  ‘And there was absolutely nobody else you could have asked?’ Kevin is furious. His voice is measured but there’s a worrying vein pulsing at his temple.

  ‘There is somebody else who I could have asked, but it’s awkward.’ Alice flicks her gaze towards Francelia, who is watching the exchange like a hawk. Alice is a plump, juicy mouse and Francelia is hungry.

  ‘Fine. Whatever.’ Kevin shrugs and shoves his body back into the sofa.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Francelia wags a finger in the general direction of the sofa.

  ‘Nothing,’ Alice says quickly. ‘It’s just I have this other good friend, but we’ve fallen out.’

  Kevin nods. ‘Big time.’

  Francelia glances at her watch again. ‘Whatever. I don’t have time to hear about your little squabbles.’ She turns her icy gaze on me. ‘Look, will you be attending or not?’

  ‘Yes,’ Alice says, her grip now intentionally tight on my arm. ‘Yes, she will.’

  ‘Right. Glad that’s sorted.’ Francelia is on her feet, handbag hooked over her arm before I even have time to blink, never mind protest. ‘I must be off. Long drive ahead and all that. I’ll see you both on Monday. Don’t forget we dress for dinner.’ She looks me up and down and puffs out a little sigh. Cheeky cow! Okay, so I didn’t make much of an effort for my date this evening, but still.

  ‘Oh, and Alice…’ Francelia pulls a face and clasps her hands together. ‘Please behave yourself. We don’t want a repeat of what happened the last time you were at the castle, do we?’

  Alice, who is halfway out of her seat, slumps back down onto the sofa. She’s gone awfully pale and appears to be blinking away tears.

  ‘Am I to see myself out?’ Francelia rolls her eyes and, with a huff of indignation, strides towards the hallway. Alice pulls herself together and leaps to her feet.

  ‘Of course not. Thank you for coming.’ Alice scuttles after Francelia while I remain seated, the wedding invitation still sitting between my fingers.

  ‘I’m sorry, okay? But you know how it is with my family.’

  ‘Yes, I know you’re ashamed of me. That you’ll do anything to stop them knowing
we’re in a relationship.’

  ‘No, it isn’t like that at all. I’ve told you. It’s them. Her especially. You think I like it being like this? Keeping our relationship a secret? Shoving you in the garden shed to hide when she shows up unexpectedly?’

  As soon as Francelia left, all hell broke loose between Alice and Kevin. They’ve taken their row to the kitchen, but I can still hear every single word of it.

  And yes, Alice did once shove Kevin in the garden shed to hide when Francelia rocked up out of the blue. It was the middle of December and he hadn’t been prepared enough to layer up. He’d emerged looking like Jack Frost after Francelia’s two-hour visit.

  ‘I really don’t know, Alice, because this sort of thing doesn’t happen in my world. If you love somebody, you don’t hide it.’

  ‘I don’t want to hide it. I want to tell the whole world how crazy I am about you. How much I love you, but I’m scared I’ll lose you if I tell them.’

  ‘You couldn’t lose me. I wouldn’t let it happen.’

  ‘You don’t know them. Not like I do. It wouldn’t be the first relationship she’d ruined. She wouldn’t let it rest. She’d keep at it, chipping away, until she’d driven a wedge between us.’

  ‘I wouldn’t let her.’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘No, I really don’t.’ There’s a moment of silence. I hope Kevin hasn’t stormed out of the back door, though I could understand if he has. It can’t be easy for him. ‘But I love you, and if I have to hide out in the shed every time your stepmum visits, then so be it. You could at least slip my coat in there with me next time though.’

  There’s another block of silence, but this time I know Kevin hasn’t removed himself from our kitchen. They’ll be snogging like a pair of horny teenagers in there. They’re a very touchy-feely couple, which is unsettling when I have to face Kevin in the staffroom during term time.

  ‘So, I thought we could go shopping tomorrow.’ Alice has breezed back into the living room after her smooch sesh as though it’s a forgone conclusion that I’m attending Carolyn’s wedding. That I’m as thrilled as she is at the invite. ‘I know you have some lovely dresses, but we’ll be sitting down to formal dinners most evenings so you won’t manage with your staple three. But it’ll be fun, and my treat, of course.’